Kris Wilson

Kris Wilson had been watching her newly wed husband, Steve, sleeping after they spenta long day riding their horses all over the Wasatch Range. Her eyes shifted from her husband to an endearing scene on their bedroom floor. Steve’s handmade chaps; a rope coiled neatly under his worn out boots, with a hole in the sole.
“I can draw that!” Kris Wilson whispered. These words were an almost forgotten refrain from her long ago past. She used to love painting or sketching something that would remind her of a very special day.
Kris was a young child when she used those words for the first time. She and her father went hunting. “I sat down, had a pencil and a pad and saw this bridge, submerging into the water and I said, ‘I can draw that!’ That was the first time I knew I had a talent.”
Now, many years later, a happily married woman, she gathered up a few watercolors and charcoals, left over from a life she had put on hold many years ago.
Kris quickly painted Steve’s chaps, rope, and his boots. Then she placed the painting on his bedside table. Steve woke up and his eyes went to Kris’s painting.
“Steve loved my work, and was totally unaware of my God given ability to visually express things that touched my innermost being. This was the day that rekindled my dream as a young girl to be an artist—the day that I confirmed I was an artist.”

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